Chasing My Pregnant Wife



In the author's mind, Angie was insignificant-nothing more than a minor nuisance. Readers with intelligence and discernment wouldn't lower themselves to her level.

Angie, however, was deeply lonely. It seemed she lacked approval in real life, which drove her to seek validation online. Her thirst for attention was insatiable, and she often acted like a drama queen.

However, Angie's attempts to stand out only revealed her limitations. Her vocabulary was meager, her mind barren, and her education lacking. As a result, she could only rely on the same tired arsenal of crude language to make her presence known. She paraded her filth in the hopes of earning recognition, forcing her thoughts on others. When ignored, she felt hollow, so she used her stench, metaphorical and otherwise, to demand attention. Perhaps the more Angie stirred up trouble, the more the author found amusement in her antics. After all, Angie had devoted an astonishing amount of time to obsessing over the author. Imagining Angie's furious expressions was, in its own way, entertaining.

Aurora secretly held Angie in contempt.

Despite her repulsive behavior, Angie had only one object of love-Theodore, the male lead. Angie harbored grandiose dreams of being with him. Even if she could only be one among many women in his life, she believed she would be satisfied.

To Angie, men were like emperors, entitled to all the riches in the world. Such arrangements were perfectly acceptable in her eyes. But for women, she maintained, the rules were different. A woman so much as embracing another man was a sign of debauchery.

She believed Theodore, as the male lead, could show kindness to a supporting female character-or even sleep with her. Such actions, Angie thought, were forgivable and tragic. But a female lead showing even basic kindness to a supporting male character was a scandal. In Angie's world, such women were immoral, unworthy, and repugnant.

A man could be a scoundrel, cheat on his wife, and still be excused. If his wife dared to divorce him and get together with another man, society would condemn her as disloyal. Angie fully endorsed this double standard, believing women should never leave their husbands and should always reconcile.

It was clear Angie's adoration for scoundrels was deeply ingrained in her nature.

Yet, Angie only applied her skewed standards of morality to criticize other women. She never followed them herself. With her unattractive appearance, venomous personality, and foul mouth, no decent man would ever spare her a second glance. Thus, she could only envy and vilify women who were better than her while secretly pining for the very scoundrels she claimed to despise.

Angie's life was a pitiful one. Unloved and unwanted, she craved a scoundrel to fill the void in her heart. But her repulsiveness drove even the worst men away. To mask her despair, she resorted to tearing down other women, pretending her bitterness was a virtue-a classic display of sour grapes.

On the surface, Angie feigned moral

superiority, constantly berating

I.ne

others. Beneath her facade, she was steeped in filth. Those who had nothing, it seemed, were always the ones who felt the greatest need to pretend. This is property © of NôvelDrama.Org.

Aurora understood Angie's true nature all too well.

To Aurora, however, none of this mattered. Angie's character, repugnant as it was, made her an ideal pawn. Manipulating someone so brainless and foul-mouthed posed no risk to Aurora herself.

With Angie's looks and behavior, the idea of Theodore falling for her was laughable. Aurora had no reason to worry. In fact, she had brought Angie here deliberately so Theodore could see her firsthand and draw his own comparisons.

Aurora's plan was seamless.

The more Theodore disliked Angie, the more Aurora's own elegance and charm would stand out. Angie would say and do all the dirty things, taking the blame and bearing the shame, while Aurora would remain spotless.

Angie, with her filthy words and actions, deserved to be used—or so Aurora believed. To her, dealing with Angie was no different from removing a pest.

Outwardly, Aurora comforted Angie, but inwardly, she mocked the latter.

For now, Angie restrained herself. She wanted to maintain her image in front of Theodore and grudgingly swallowed her frustration. Later, though, she planned to vent her anger at the author, as she often did.

"Angie," Theodore said, his tone calm but firm you can stay here, but I'll make this clear-my grandmother is elderly, so I expect you to behave. No yelling or loud arguments about the novel. If you want to fight with the author, that's your business, but keep your voice down. My grandmother doesn't need to hear it."

Angie nodded quickly. "I understand. I won't do it again."

Even as Theodore reprimanded her, Angie found his voice soothing. To her, it was a melody-whether he was scolding her or not.